Pretty Sure It's Infected

I managed to weasel my way out of work today. The only other time I've had off this year has been to go to funerals, so it was nice to not have to go to one of those again. Although I did have a job to do, which is why I got the day off. My job for the day was to finish up clearing out the unit down the coast. I figured it was something that I could put off until the afternoon, so I did.

My morning consisted of sleeping, making pancakes and not sleeping. I also had a cup of tea. I paid for a trip to New Zealand as well.

Last night I had some Fasta Pasta for dinner. It was actually quite tasty. Reasonably priced too, which is always good. Ria and I split a bottle of wine and a plate of the pasta, it was pretty good. John ate the whole plate himself, I was a little jealous.

This afternoon I headed down to the apartment. It was a little bit sad, heading in there for the last time. I had a final swim. A final cigarette and cup of tea on the balcony. It would have been good to head down the coast last night by myself for a final capricciosa pizza washed down by 12 beers, but it was not to be. That's for the best anyway. I cleared all of the Musgrave gear out of there and shut the door for the final time.

I really enjoyed the space that the apartment afforded me. It was great. I did a whole lot of thinking down there, which is what I needed. A bit of time alone, a place to escape to where I didn't need to interact with anybody if I didn't want to. I'm going to miss it.

After I'd removed all of our stuff I had to drop the keys off at the real estate office in Surfer's Paradise. I've never spent all that much time in Surfer's. Pretty much the only time I've been there for more than a couple of hours was at schoolies. That was fun in a less than wholesome way, I didn't realise that Surfer's is fucking seedy at the best of times. That place is really evil. Just walking around is disturbing. You're constantly in shadow because of the high rises. All of the people on the street just look fake and weird. No-one smiles. There are too many opportunities to deviate. From what? I'm not sure, but I know that just being there made me want to do some pretty unsavoury stuff. I guess that's what it thrives on. That air of no consequences. Actually, that's not what it is at all. Surfer's Paradise is what is wrong with the coast. Everything I don't like about it is right there and in full force. There's no escaping from it.

Err... I don't think that there's too much more to say. I don't like Surfer's Paradise, but I can't put into words why. I'm looking forward to the weekend, particularly Eddie Perfect and Paniyiri.